Speculation
by SweetSinger2010
Summary: Sabine thinks Hera is pregnant, and she has (circumstantial) evidence to prove it. Ezra's about to get an earful of information he doesn't want.


A/N: My first stab at writing for SWR, even though I should be working on other things. This is supposed to humorous (hopefully not crass) and a not-that-likely scenario, but I tried to stay true to character. I'm not sure I was successful, but I had fun writing. The fanart I used for the cover photo isn't mine; I found it on Deviant Art. The artist is Lorna-Ka. R&R! Critiques welcome.

* * *

Speculation

Sabine walked into Ezra's room unannounced and uninvited. He stared up at her from the place in the floor where he was cleaning and polishing a newly-acquired TIE pilot's helmet. Sabine leaned against the door after it slid shut behind her and folded her arms across her chest.

"You wanna know what I think?"

Ezra went back to work on his helmet, feigning nonchalance. It seemed like the way to go. "I feel like you're going to tell me anyway, so—"

She continued as if she hadn't heard him. "I think Hera's pregnant."

"Liar." Ezra tried hard to keep the incredulity out of his voice and expression, but his jaw fell open just to spite him.

"I'm serious."

He picked at the edge of his cleaning rag in consternation. He couldn't quite meet her eye. "Sabine, why would you even—"

She rolled her eyes. "Think about it. We all share the same 'fresher. When was the last time you noticed any… _feminine_ supplies in the garbage?"

"Hells of Corellia!" Ezra choked, flushing deeply. Sabine always said exactly what was on her mind, but he wasn't expecting _that_! He abandoned the cleaning project and shoved the helmet onto his head as fast as he could, sputtering helplessly, _"Sabine!"_

She remained unfazed. "Well?"

He realized, to his eternal mortification, that her question wasn't rhetorical. "I mean, uh, I don't—don't _you_ use—"

Sabine waved a hand dismissively. "There's a special implant you can get to take care of that. It's terrific—no muss, no fuss, and you don't have to worry about it for months. And I know for a fact Hera doesn't have one."

His eyes were the size of Felucian star-fruit. "How—"

"I asked her for advice before I got—"

Ezra's horror was clear, even through the helmet. " _Please_ stop," he gasped, jerking to his feet. He wanted out, he wanted to be anywhere away from here, but Sabine was an immovable object in his path, still lounging against his door with a gaze that would. not. stop.

"About six or seven weeks, I think," she continued, answering her own question, ignoring his obvious discomfort. He tried to side-step her, unsuccessfully. "You know what that means."

"Please—"

"Pregnant."

Ezra shuddered. Stretching out his hands, he summoned the Force and shoved Sabine out of his way, bolting through the door.

Leaving the cabin turned out to be a futile move, because Sabine was far more nimble than he and far less flustered. To his chagrin, he found that she not only followed him, but managed to block his every step down the passageway. Even though his helmet goggles were darkly tinted, he still actively avoided eye contact with her.

"You have to admit that it's _possible_ , Ezra." Her eyes shone with mischief and conspiracy as she and Ezra seemingly danced toward the _Ghost's_ aft section. Was she mocking him? The whole thing made him feel queasy.

To that effect, he made a gagging noise, trying to signal the end of the conversation. She punched him in the shoulder and heaved an exasperated sigh. "Grow _up_ , Bridger. You're sixteen years old! Don't you want to know about girl stuff for whenever— _if_ ever—you start dating one?"

She smirked a little bit and it rankled him to his core.

"No!" He spat decisively, sidestepping her at last. He didn't like how pinched his voice sounded. He inched his way toward the crew common area. If he could make it there, he could run for the air lock and freedom. "Not from you, not now, and definitely not while we're talking about the _extremely remote possibility_ that Hera is—is—"

His hesitation was all Sabine needed. She smacked her palm against his helmet, pinning him to the wall. "Say it! I want to hear you say the word, like a grown-up." He twitched, but remained silent. Sabine was undeterred. " _Say it._ "

Ezra felt beads of sweat pooling around his collar. Wasn't there _anyone_ else on this ship? Sabine knocked his head against the wall again.

"Fine!" He yelped, and then whispered the word: "Pregnant."

"Aha!" Sabine crowed her victory. "So you _do_ think it's a possibility."

"What! No, that's not what I said!"

She brought her voice to a husky whisper. "Who do you think the father is?"

Ezra made another gagging noise and slid down the wall, flattening himself against the floor. If he couldn't run away from Sabine, he'd _crawl._

"Before we joined up with Phoenix Squadron," Sabine was saying, acting like she hadn't noticed he was sliding across the floor like a Hutt, "I'd have told you that _Kanan_ was the only possibility, obviously—"

" _Gods_ , Sabine!" He'd moved beyond horror and was experiencing something on a different plane to think of Kanan and Hera—

"—but _now_ , the possibilities are endless." She placed her foot in the small of Ezra's back, immobilizing his retreat. "What do you think?"

Ezra gave up. "I—"

Neither teen noticed that the door slid open behind them.

"Oh, I can tell you what _I_ think." Hera interrupted coolly. She stood with one hand on her hip and her lekku curled at the ends, sure signs of her supreme annoyance. Kanan stood by her, his expression hard.

"Karabast!" Sabine gasped and flattened herself against the wall, moving out of the corridor's middle as Hera and Kanan approached. Ezra resigned himself to his fate, laying still on the floor. _If I stay here long enough_ , he thought miserably, _maybe it will open up and swallow me._

"Hera! Kanan!" Sabine greeted too brightly. Ezra half sat up so he could get a good look at her face. He felt vindicated to see that she had gone pale, and her eyes were shifting uneasily. "We were just—"

Kanan held up a hand. "We heard what you were _'just.'_ Isn't that right, Hera?" He deferred to his Twi'lek counterpart.

"Yes, Kanan, that's right." Her eyes narrowed and Ezra felt a sudden wave of nausea. "We heard _all_ of it."

"Oh," Sabine said. "Well—"

"Get lost, both of you," Kanan glowered. "I don't want to see your faces again this rotation."

Hera laid a hand on his arm. "Now, wait a minute. I'd like to weigh in on their conversation, since it was about _my_ personal business. There were some interesting points, after all." Her tone was as calm as it was patronizing, and it frightened Ezra immensely.

"I wasn't discussing _anything!_ It was Sabine!" he insisted frantically. Hera ignored him.

"I am _not_ ," she said, pinning both of them with an icy glare, "pregnant." She paused just slightly and Ezra thought maybe he noticed her hand brush across her abdomen. "Although as Sabine expertly observed, I have been experiencing some…irregularities."

Ezra, still safely concealed beneath his helmet, was free to observe the slight, embarrassed twinge of Kanan's eyebrows. Even Sabine balked at Hera's no-holds-barred admission.

"Hera, I—"

" _Stress._ " Hera interrupted Sabine's would-be apology, her tone disparaging. "The medical droid told me it's caused by stress, no doubt a side effect of dealing with you two laser-brains all the time!"

"Sorry," Ezra and Sabine mumbled in tandem. He scrambled to his feet and Sabine's hands were at his back, shoving him toward the common room.

"I _knew_ this was stupid," he hissed.

Her elbow landed between his shoulder blades. "Shut _up_."

"One more thing," Kanan called. They froze. "I believe there was the hypothetical question of paternity. Hera?"

A sly eyebrow rose. "You can take this one, love."

He cleared his throat. "If Hera _was_ pregnant, I think I can say unequivocally that _there would be no question of paternity_."

Ezra stifled yet another gag. Hera tilted her head toward Kanan, a simpering smile on her lips. "Do you think the baby would have your eyes or mine?"

"Ugh!" Sabine finally had enough. Ezra felt pleased. "Specter Five and Six _out!_ "

* * *

Kanan and Hera watched Ezra and Sabine fight each other through the door to the common room. Hera shook her head, bemused.

"That should shut them up for a while."

Kanan snorted. "You'd think."

A silence settled between them and they locked eyes. Hera felt herself flush inexplicably and she was the first to turn away. "Well," she said lightly, "now that _that's_ over, I've got some things—"

Kanan caught her sleeve. "Your eyes," he said.

"What?"

"Your eyes," he repeated patiently. "I would want any child of ours to have _your_ eyes."

She blinked in surprise, several expressions crossing her face. "I'll…I'll keep that in mind, love." Her voice was barely above a whisper. Her heart beat wildly as Kanan leaned closer to her and she thought— _Force!_ —she thought he was going to kiss her. She certainly _hoped_ he would; it had been such a long time…

Their lips barely brushed and Hera's breath hitched in her throat—

And then she half-shrieked when Chopper slammed against the back of her legs, knocking her into Kanan and sending them sprawling on the ground.

" _C1-10P!"_ She shouted, pushing herself to her feet. She was furious at the astromech for interrupting her would-be dalliance with Kanan, and furious with herself for not hearing him sneak up behind her. "You'll be headed to the scrap pile if I get my hands on you!"

Chopper rocked back and forth on his struts and made a series of noises that sounded dangerously close to a taunt. Then he warbled maniacally and wheeled away, projecting a holo-vid as he went. It was a compilation of all the times over the years that he'd caught Hera and Kanan together, leaving Hera to wonder which one of them was the true captain of the _Ghost_.

She looked at Kanan in horror. "You don't think he'll _actually_ show that to Sabine, do you?"

He shrugged, only a modicum of concern on his face. "Either he will or he won't."

Hera rolled her eyes. "Great. _Now_ you want to cling to Jedi philosophy."

* * *

Zeb came around the corner in time to see Hera sprint after Chopper, slipping into her Ryl dialect as she both threatened and tried to coddle the fussy astromech into submission.

"What's she on about?" Zeb jerked his head toward Hera and the droid. Then he looked down at the Jedi. "And why in blazes are you on the floor?"

Kanan just laughed. "Long story. But the gist of it is that Hera is _not_ pregnant."

Zeb's eyes widened. "Karabast!" he spat incredulously. "That's not where I expected this conversation to go."

Kanan opened his mouth to explain, but Zeb cut him off, walking away. "Forget it; I don't wanna know. I just want some of whatever the rest of you have been drinking," he muttered sourly. "You ask me, this _whole crew_ needs their heads checked."

He stalked into his cabin and lounged on his bunk. After a moment, his mouth spread in a wide, toothy grin. He spoke to the empty room. "Hera's not pregnant, eh? Sabine owes me ten credits."


End file.
